


Destined to Explode

by AnnaofAza



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: (Jack/Kent), Angst, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Relationship Problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 14:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8105176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaofAza/pseuds/AnnaofAza
Summary: Did it ever mean the same to you as it did to me?
Lord, now he’s identifying with Kent Parson. He knows he’s in trouble.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This title was inspired by "Time Bomb" by All Time Low. Listen to it; it will give you Kent/Jack and/or Bitty/Jack feels.

Jack’s quiet tonight. It’s been four hours ever since he met Kent Parson again on the ice, and Bitty’s not sure what to say. 

They’d managed to sneak away in the chaos of another celebratory kegster, provided by the Haus, ensconced in Bitty’s room, the door carefully shut and locked. Unlike the last time they were up here, there’s no playful banter, no casual touches, no bouncing on the mattress. 

Instead, Jack’s sitting at the edge of the bed, a red cup still filled to the brim with tub juice, and Bitty’s beside him. Their feet do not touch, but their hands lay side by side in between their bodies. Bitty’s just preparing himself to lift up his hand and cover Jack’s with it, but then, Jack sighs. 

“Penny for your thoughts, sweetheart?” Bitty asks carefully, trying to straddle the line between  _you don’t have to bring it up first_ and _please talk to me._

Jack only stares at his cup, and Bitty waits, in case he’s going to pry words out from his soul, the locked door in his heart. He swings his legs back and forth, crosses them once, then twice, then tries to hold still. 

But Bitty can remember seeing them after the game, stowed away far from the locker rooms or the rink, the swarming grounds for reporters and fans. Jack was still in his gear, while Kent had changed into dark jeans and a blue flannel with rolled-up sleeves. He would have looked good, Bitty admitted, if he weren’t standing so close to Jack, his green-blue eyes narrowed and accusatory. 

 _“It’s all in the past?_ ” Kent had quoted in a low voice, throwing Jack’s words from the pre-game interview back at him. 

“It is,” Jack replied, hands slightly clenched at his sides. He still hadn’t taken off his gloves. Bitty thought about approaching, saying something like, _Oh, Jack! The team’s waiting on you_ , but stayed still behind the door, slightly cracked ajar. His throat tightened, heartbeat fluttering nervously in his chest, knots twisting in his stomach. 

It reminded him of the Epikegster, and the reminder of it and the pieces that Jack gave him to complete the puzzle made his stomach churn, as if it was digesting a sad attempt at blueberry pie from his cousins. 

Kent seemed to pause, as if he’d caught himself in a flinch, then blurted out, “I’ve been thinking about it, coming out, you know. Zimms, if we do it together…”

“No,” Jack cut him off, lowering his voice even more. “Parse, be serious.”

“I _am_.” Kent’s voice begun shifting into anger, the same spark that would light off the dynamite. “The problem is, _you_ never were. Hockey’s your first love, and it’s going to be your last, huh?”

“We’re not doing this.” Jack said, then stepped away, and Bitty had let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Look, we played great out there. Maybe it’s not like…before, but it doesn’t have to be. We can still—”

“Still what?” Kent snapped.

Jack seemed to hesitate before saying, “Talk. Try to…be friends again.”

“Just friends?” This time, Kent’s tone was plaintive, and Bitty found it easy to imagine that was what his voice sounded like back when he and Jack were still in the Juniors, young and hopeful and on top of the world. 

Jack’s tone was firm. “ _Just_ friends.”

“Did it ever mean the same to you as it did to me?” At Jack’s silence, Kent snorted. “Right. Of course not.”

Bitty’s attention now snaps back to Jack, who’s still looking into his cup. “Bits. I…I talked to Parse after the game, and…” He sighs again, breath shuddering. “The more I talk to him, the more I remember how much time it’s been.” Then, “He talked to me about coming out.”

Bitty sits up. “Coming out?” he asks casually, trying not to explicitly hint. “Really?” He’s not expecting Jack to rattle off a day, month, year, and time, but wishes something other than _one day_ will roll off his tongue. Jack in Madison had been the highlight of his summer, but would they be there next year, holding hands underneath the table and being introduced as just teammates? Would he be eventually be able to say his boyfriend’s name on his vlog? Would he and Lardo be able to good-naturedly chirp their boyfriends during their study sessions at the library?

“I can’t, not just yet. I have everything I’ve ever wanted, and I can’t…” Jack trails off, but Bitty puts words to end the sentence, something very similar to the refrain of  _mess up my career_. 

“…Right,” Bitty mutters, shifting on the bed.

Jack’s eyes look to the hockey figurine proudly displayed on Bitty’s cluttered desk, then Bitty himself. His hand moves, brushing Bitty’s fingers as lightly as a butterfly’s touch. He swallows, spine tensing, before asking, “Bits? What’s wrong?”

Bitty shakes his head. “Nothing.” 

Bitty ducks his head as Jack tries to look him in the eye, hearing him say softly, “Please, say what’s on your mind. We promised we’d be honest and upfront with each other.”

_Did it ever mean the same to you as it did to me?_

Lord, now he’s identifying with _Kent Parson_. He knows he’s in trouble. 

Bitty remembers his mother saying, _Eric, when you find that special someone, you’ll know because they’ll stand beside you._  The secret’s straining, tighter and tighter, but at the danger of unraveling. Some day, someone—from the Haus, from Jack’s teammates, from a slip of the tongue—will put the pieces together. And when that happens, will Jack stand by him?

Of course he will. Of _course_. 

But why is it so hard to believe?

“We did,” Bitty says. “But, Jack…I feel like we haven’t talked about something.” He takes a deep breath. “We’re not going to stay hidden forever, right?”

“No, of course not. It’s just…”

“Your career.” Something bitter rises in his throat, the words _I didn’t come out of the closet to be pushed back in_ wanting to tumble out. The stealthy Skpe calls, the sneaking out for visits, the closed corridors are no longer filled with giddy anticipation, but just another reminder that a misstep can destroy everything. “Hockey comes first, I know.”

“Bits,” Jack begins, but Bitty plows on: “You and Kent, it didn’t end well, right? It just faded out, and I don’t…”

Jack shakes his head, voice urgent now, “It was nothing like what I have with you. It had a—”

“Expiration date,” Bitty interrupts, fist tightening underneath Jack’s hand. “What, do you think this one will have an expiration date, too?” He can feel his throat tightening, tears welling up in his eyes, and stands up before Jack could see his face. His hands slips out from under Jack’s, and he clenches it before putting it and his other hand deep in the pockets of his jeans.

"Bitty, _wait_ —”

“I have to make sure the Haus doesn’t burn down,” Bitty says, fighting back a tremor in his voice. “And I got a pie in the oven.” 

And when Bitty walks to the door, then down the hallway, and towards the kitchen, Jack doesn’t follow. 


End file.
